


To Have and To Hold | The Domestic Dilemma

by DrbWrite



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10572891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrbWrite/pseuds/DrbWrite
Summary: "My wife loves me. She does." - JoeyORTo Arya, it was never domestic bliss. Even before Joey got married.





	

My wife loves me. She does.

* * *

 

“Is she still going on about that?” Arya asked, skepticism stark on her face.

 _‘As if Arya knew her’,_ he thought, adjusting his scarf. “She’s still the same person, Ari. I knew this when I married her.”

His best friend remained unconvinced. “Joey, she can’t still begrudge you for what you _both_ did _years ago._ ” She rolled the salt shaker between her palms, a furrow high on her brow. “This is _insane!_ ” For emphasis she slammed the shaker down onto the table. A few of their fellow patrons glanced at them briefly.

Joey was not amused. “Arya, this is not something to concern yourself with. She’s just really affected by things. She doesn’t mean to do this stuff,” he implored, the bags under his eyes deep caverns, “she’s just, really- sensitive,” he finished lamely. One scratched hand reached up to press his hair away from his forehead tiredly.

“Joey, this isn’t _normal.”_ The woman hissed, hazel eyes storming. “You need to _tell_ someone. And before you say it, I mean _officials._ ”

The brunet stood and made to leave, swearing under his breath as the scabs on his hands pulled with every motion. His companion pulled a few bills from her purse as she made to follow, throwing them down on the table. Joey frowned at her, confused. “Why won’t you leave it? You’re the only one making a big deal out of this. I can handle it. I just set her off at times.”

Hazel eyes rolled in their sockets. “You can’t even hear yourself can you?” She jabbed her hands into the pockets of her dress, kicking at the ground as she stomped down the street behind her BFF. “This isn’t something _cute_ , Joey. She is really being ab-”

Stopping suddenly, Joey whirled to face her. “ _She’s not!_ ” He barked, face distraught. “My wife loves me. She does.”

Heavy footsteps slowed as Arya considered her longtime friend. “You know that if she loved you she wouldn’t do this. This is some power-play kind of shit. She shouldn’t feel the need to control you.”

Sneering, the male continued his journey home. “That isn’t it. She so generous and kind, and she loves me despite the fact that _I_ still act like a fucking child.”

Arya laughed in disbelief, jogging to his side, “You? A _child_? Joey, she throws tantrums and furniture when you don’t give her what she wants! _You_ told me she broke all your wedding china throwing it at you and made you clean it up. What the fuck, man?! You wouldn’t let _anyone_ treat me like that.”

“It’s different.”

“How is this different? Do you think I _like_ being called by your neighbour because your fucking wife is _strangling_ you?! You could have died! You would have died if that dude had ignored your screaming like he usually does! You can’t accept her treating you like this. You’re not some convenient dildo slash bank slash scapegoat. You’re a human being deserving of human decency.” The leather bag by Arya’s side gave a disquieting squeak as she wrung it between her hands. “I want you to be safe.”

Nodding in acknowledgement, Joey quietly spoke, “I am. It’s just that she gets so frustrated sometimes. It’s not like she’s doing this because she likes it. She needs to relieve some stress at times. I’m her world,” he recited.

Tearing the leather, Arya flared her nostrils, “The fact is. She has tried to _hurt_ you. What couple that’s been married for less than six months has to worry about this stuff? _Leave her._ ”

Joey gazed into the distance at the townspeople going about their business, having no concern for the conversation between the two. “I can’t. Everyone will know that I can’t handle being married. I told Jason some of it, and he thinks that maybe I’m _gay._ And I’m not! I just thought that maybe, she’d- _mellow_ , you know?”

Arya narrowed her eyes at the torn leather in her hands, even as her nails worried at the pieces. “Look. She can’t claim you don’t love her because you don’t want sex. That’s not something strange. If you don’t feel it, you don’t. Matthew knows that I’d leave him if he even got to thinking it’s okay, to, what? Roll me over and just shove it in, when I tell him I’m not interested! If you like sex, you’re supposed to _like it._ No one should make it feel like an obligation, something to be expected and taken whenever they like.”

“Guys are different. She has nee-” he flinched, realizing what he was saying. His eyes remained half-lidded, his face downcast. “I love her.”

Arya nodded fiercely. “Then she should know better than to take advantage of your feelings. It doesn’t matter that she has a hole. She was always an emotional black hole. You shouldn’t disregard your feelings and safety just to make her satisfied. She’s not the only one in your marriage.”

Pieces of leather fluttered in the wind as they escaped Arya’s grasp. Joey felt just as lost. “I’ve been told I should just accept that she’s overbearing. No one said anything when I complained about her going through my phone. No one said anything when I complained about her demanding that we have sex. No said anything when she’d slap me for talking to other girls. No one said anything when I complained about her always claiming that I would do as she wanted if I loved her. No one said anything when I complained, except to tell me to stop complaining.”

“We’re not _angels_ you know. Being shitty is not specific to men. He, she, they, whatever someone goes by, they can be abusive no matter how pretty they are, or how delicate, or how nice they _seem_.” She paused as her gaze caught on his home. “So what are you going to do?”

Joey came to a stop, staring at the home that would house his and Shay’s future children, where they would grow old together. His heart was racing just from the sight, his palms already sweaty. Excuses were already building, explanations ready to be cried out as his wife descended. He held a hope that she would be calm and happy, but those days were few and far between. He’d go home, and she’d snark about him slacking and wasting his time at his job at the news office. Slipping out of his shoes quietly, Shay would grasp his arm too tightly, complaining about some discrepancy in his appearance. They’d end up in the bedroom, with him begging off sex. She’d snicker and pull his pants off, stroking him. She’d laugh at his weak attempts at pushing her away and then she’d guide him inside her, complimenting him, making him smile and orgasm, even as he felt as though he’d swallowed glass. The shower would be his short reprieve, and he’d emerge to see her scrolling through his phone. She’d punch his chest, swearing up a storm, insulting his choices, questioning his loyalty. They’d go to the dining room where Shay would have a sumptuous meal prepared. Joey would smile and praise her, watching as she beamed under his compliments. They’d watch TV or have sex again, in which case Shay would pinch him every time he spoke. So he’d sit or lie there quietly, and then eventually leave to clean up the dishes. Or they would go out, and she’d watch him every time he wandered away. A simple ‘excuse me’ would have her demand that they go home, and she’d scream, scratching and pulling and slapping and punching and asking ‘why do you do this, Jospeh?!’

Arya looked between him and the house, her expression troubled. “I’m worried that I’ll get a call that she’s gone too far and you’ll be dead. Please, Joey.”

A curtain moved from within the house, and Joey caught sight of Shay waving. Within moments she opened the front door and gestured for him to come in, smiling that same soft smile that he had fallen in love with. Joey smiled back.

“My wife loves me. She does.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Abuse is abuse is abuse.
> 
> Men are not exempt from being abused. I see this a lot where I'm from, and it irritates me that this is held as the societal norm for most.
> 
> Please know that this behaviour is not acceptable. A relationship is a give and take, yes, but it ought to be more mutualistic than parasitic. If your S.O. makes you uncomfortable, miserable, hurt, if they treat you as less than a human being capable of making competent decisions, then know this:
> 
> There is a door for you. It is always open.
> 
> Get out.
> 
> \- D. Mist  
> >:3c


End file.
